I Dream.
I dream of taking a photo of a couple’s first kiss, right before the pouring rain, in the courtyard of a cathedral. The rain drops suspended, motionless in the air, bathed gold by the rising morning sun through the dark clouds, peeking from the rooftops.

I Dream.
I dream of walking upon a plain of clouds, to feel the swirling, plush clouds slide away from my feet, surrounded by the empty blue sky and the White Sea, filling my senses.

I Dream.
I dream of falling down the cold night sky, down towards the world below, my vision filled by the harvest moon and stars before me, falling further and further away. My breath lined with moonlight and frost, feeling the midnight chill glide upon my skin, my sleeves.

I Dream.
I dream of speaking to a familiar stranger, in his garden guarded by ancient walls, surrounded by the blue blossoms of roses, dew resting upon the leaves. The tea before us grows cold on the iron wrought table, but his gaze remains calm, unchanging. Knowing

I Wake